Sato: A water bender story
by Prof. Egghead
Summary: Avatar: TLAB world, a whole new story: Sato was just your average kid, when his world is thrown apart, how can he use his gift to win a battle of the heart. Thousands of years before Aang, a great hero also sets off on an increadible journey.
1. Chapter 1

_**This is my first fanfic, would appreciate reviews, if there is any dodgy grammar, my bad.  
**__**Still not sure where this story is going, will be an interesting journey though. **_

_****_

And in the style of my good friend AriaCloudrunner:  
I do not own 'Avatar: the last air bender', if I did, there would be about sixteen seasons by now. You get the point.  
Also, don't be stingy in giving reviews, good or bad: I want to know if anybody cares....

Enjoy!

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The water shimmered for a second, formed into a small wave, then slumped.

The powerfully built boy briefly considered somehow punishing the water, he decided against it mainly because he had no clue how you go about punishing water, also, he knew it was his fault that he was failing and was too frustrated to blame others. Instead he sat down, getting as close to the water as he could. The boy that stared back at him looked tired, no doubt from countless nights of trying to lift the water out of the jug beside his bed, _with his mind_. Thinking about it, it even sounded tiring.

The boy in the water looked into his eyes and said through the language of one's mind the words that he knew he needed to hear: "get a grip Sato, you are better than this thing".

"Shut up, water" he responded, annoyed that he was right. He was having conversations with himself now, for crying out loud...

Apart from the fact that he had just been put in his place by an inanimate object, he felt frustrated at the futility of it all. He had the power, he could feel it, his father had been one of the first pupils of the master who had discovered how to move the water like the moon did.

He focused with all his might, a tiny whirlpool sprang up. Inch by inch, he moved this creation to his left, a leaf was sucked into the whirlpool and it threw him off, he recovered, composed himself, and held it steady.

Just as he started to feel in control he heard a sound of rustling beside him. He nearly jumped out of his skin at seeing his best friend, Joreka sit down next to him, when she saw what he was doing, she sighed.

"You do realize that everyone in the village thinks you have gone insane...." she sighed again and put her hand on his shoulder.

They had been friends for longer than either could remember; Joreka was seventeen, his elder in years but an equal partner in their friendship. He was sixteen, although from his strong muscular looks he could pass for his best friends older brother easily, a fact that annoyed her to no end.

Lately, he had been obsessed by trying to water bend. Boys in other camps were becoming quite competent at the art discovered only recently by the water tribe. This made Sato very jealous; he was used to being good at things, never great, always good. He simply could not work this out, he could do it when he did not think about it, the second he tried however... utter and complete failure.

"I just can't work out this water bending thing. My father is so good, how can I be so terrible..." the shame he felt could only just be contained. That was the crux of the matter; he felt he was letting his father down. That was worse than any other thing could ever be. His father, for his part, was greatly supporting, but Sato could always see the slight disappointment in his mentor's eyes.

Joreka sat silently, she had also tried water bending and she had the gift. She however, did not particularly care about it: she came from a long line of medicine women, that was her true calling.

"Come on Sat" the childish nickname cheered him slightly, Joreka knew him too well. The warm up was instantly followed by the bait: "Besides" she teased "If you don't come now, however can you expect for any of my mother's rice to stay warm and steamy" Sato instantly brightened, if there was one thing he loved, it was boiled rice, the simplicity of it always made him feel more humble and in his place when the universe was conspiring against him.

With the prospect of food in his belly and the promise to return the following day, he set of, hand in hand with the only person who could have ever cheered him up from the deep depression he had been in.

Maybe things would be O.K..

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_**Hope you liked it, if not, feel free to insult me and everyone I care about in a review!**_

**_Will publish chapter two when I work out how, and when I have writen it._**

**_P.S. For Az: You have a fish, and a box, you put the fish _IN_ the box. where is the fish?  
In joke people, might explain some other time._**


	2. Chapter 2

**Y_AY, Chapter two at last._**

_**Because of increadible support for the story (1 review in a week) I am publishing this,  
****have not even started next chapter. Pester me if you want results.**_

_**I do not own Avatar. I sooo should though.**_

**_Without further adue. enjoy!_**

**_P.S. REVIEW_**

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Phoenix island was probably best described as the shape of a waterlily, it curved in an oval shape on the west, south and east side of the island, smoothed by continuous waves lashing the shores, the north was the only part of the island with any character, on the northeast coast, high cliffs rose, daring the vicious sea to try and breach it. The northwest had a series of bays and coves that from above looked like the teeth of a shark. Due north the biggest inlet, spanning nearly three kilometres across, took up a quarter of the island, it was deep and blue; in the summer, strange exotic and sometimes dangerous creatures lurked in the shadowy depths, menacing and yet far off, never daring to get too close, but always a threat.

The most obvious features of the island were the cliffs that every year claimed some poor soul who either could not hack the tough island life, or was simply caught too close to the edge when a wicked wind darted across the sea and pulled anything loose off the cliffs into the churned up water, in a storm, it was not unusual to lose whole trees to the devastating might of nature.

The other thing that struck you about the island was the small mountain that stood in the dead centre of the island, ambitious in size but puny compared to the vast open space all around it. It was a lonely place, phoenix island was over twenty five kilometres from any other islands, a suicidal distance to raft on anything but the most calm days. There was a sort of peace on the island that can only be achieved by a place of such isolation.

The three tribes that dotted the island were contented if a little dull. The northern most village was on the northwest coast and was squeezed between the bay known as Grazing bay and the mountain with endless names, none but the elders remembered them all.

The biggest and most populated tribe sat on the southeast side of Phoenix Island, content to sit in the middle of a small forest made up of every tree imaginable that had made the distance from the mainland.

The final village was a small, tight nit group of people who rarely left the large bay and surrounding area from their village, they had no need to. There were fields to the west and east; to the north was the largest bay of the island, known to most as half moon bay. To the South was the island's mountain, tall and impressive from so close.

It was a contented place, a place of hard work, often a dangerous place, all those who lived there could not even contemplate moving away, even if there had been that option.

Sato and Joreka walked slowly and contentedly into the village, the bay was sparkling in the setting sun and it was a serene moment, from the slight vantage that the village sat on there was a beautiful view of most of the northern side of the island. A small pillar of smoke rose from the small northern most village to the northwest, the Grazing bay tribe as they called themselves, any suggestions of a nicer name were met with curious and sometimes angry looks from the "Village of the Bay-Grazians".

Sato was contemplating the injustice of life. Joreka was looking forward to an evening of talk, games, and fun with Sato.

The village was cold, at this late stage of autumn the trees that lined the houses were barely hanging on to the last, die hard leaves that refused to let go. No doubt the weather would be completely different on the mainland of the earth, that far off land no one had visited in years where technology was advanced and futuristic. It was rumoured that on the mainland, other nations were emerging, some who built great palaces of stone and gold, some who travelled around on great flying beast, some that made friends with the deadly dragons.

No doubt these were all just stories, and mostly the dreamed up lands of a travellers mind. Although the adults were sceptic the young of the village could never help but dream...

This however was the island; the most exciting thing to happen in fifty years was the discovery of what was known as water bending. The first person to bend was a man from the mainland, or thereabouts at least. He had come over on a canoe the size of a house, when he arrived it took him less than two days to have the three tribes that inhabited the island wrapped around his little finger, they saw it as a great opportunity to learn about the mainland and for the young of the village to learn the incredible skill that was water bending. He saw it as a chance to live as a king and to have his every wish granted at the clap of his hands. The arrangement had ended after three months, some of the island youngsters were getting quite adept at bending, and there had even been talk of a competition, judged by the far off master of course. The Master, for his part, had told nothing about the mainland, everyone had begged for him to tell them about the great cities rumoured to exist, and about the massive canoe even now being replicated by some skilled carpenter of the Southern tribe. The master said nothing, he had taken full advantage of everything offered to him, never saying anything more than a gruff thank you to anyone but his pupils.

Eleven short weeks after the arrival of the deity from the mainland, he had been found dead in his cabin, apparently he died when his heart had seized up and stopped beating. From there, the pupils had continued to teach themselves, trying to replicate what they had seen the master do. After a year of that, most had given up, those who continued became quite good and were highly praised for their skill. Now the next generation of water benders were being raised, some self taught, others helped by fathers or friends to hone their skills.

There was a tension in the air that could only be associated with the fact that the winter snows were late. Since the master had been found dead there was a lot more superstition compared to the literally inexistent amount that had been there before. Some had not changed; unfortunately it only took a couple of cursing, pessimistic villagers to put a bad mood on the camp.

It was a superstitious time for everyone belonging to what called itself the island tribe. The coming of what quickly became known as water bending was a shock for a tribe of people with sketchy and limited religious views. Many treated this new phenomenon with first a sort of uneasiness and then outright suspicion, it was even rumoured that water bending used the energy of your soul, therefore slowly killing you the more you did it. Others, to the contrary, said that water bending finetuned the mind and body, and was an art form that was to be treated as a nearly godly gift. As often tended to be in a society that lived away from other civilization, people had formed into groups, some who wanted change, some who vehemently rejected it. It was an arrangement that worked for the time being.

Sato and Joreka were similar in their opinion of water bending as in that both found something they liked in it. Joreka was discovering, along with some other girls in the village, that she had the ability to heal people with her water bending, she had been learning for years, and had her mother as her teacher, she could heal most minor cuts and bruises, but she still could not heal anything under the skin, that she left to her mother.

Sato was a lot less experienced with bending, he had started when he saved himself from a nasty burn; a pot of boiled water was over the fire and he had accidently kicked out one of the legs, just as the scalding liquid had been about to touch his skin he had, on impulse, bended the liquid and stopped it in its tracks. From then he had tried to replicate the power, he had made enough progress so that he could lift a cup full of water and manipulate it at will. If only it hadn't taken him two whole years... some days he was not bad, some days he was pathetic, it was extremely frustrating. In those two years he had become quite antisocial; those who he talked to vouched that he was an incredibly nice boy, most just received the monosyllabic and lazy answers expected of a pre-teen. This had caused some to think he was just quiet, others thought that all the bending had warped his mind and turned him crazy.

Sato walked up to the bamboo house and knocked twice. Two knocks meant can we enter and was the polite thing, three meant much the same but was mostly used between close friends and family members, four or more knocks meant let me in and signified you were either in a hurry or were very rude indeed. In a small village privacy was difficult to come by; any privacy offered was cherished and respected.

The door was opened by a tall woman wearing the traditional island robes made of a soft silk that was blue and purple, Joreka's mother smiled, then opened the door wider and let the two teens in. She was obviously annoyed that it had taken so long for them to come home but knew Sato was feeling down so said nothing.

'Your father told me to feed you' said Joreka's mother plainly. Sato's father was one of the island elders, even though he was young he had much to offer and was often the only one who had an original thought among the old men that ran this island of little change.

Obviously Sato's father was at a tribal meeting, most likely just a meeting about the supply of coconuts, or about how many goats were left grazing on the higher slopes.

Sato's father was a powerful man, he had learnt to manipulate the elders into doing things his way, he was a great asset to a community that had been stagnant for years before he had come. He had been at first hired as a consultant about water bending; such a drastic change was bound to bring indecision in a community, and Sato's father had been the best water bender at the time.

There was a sort of mutual arrangement between Sato and Joreka's parents, Sato did not know exactly what it was but every time Sato needed something and his parent was gone, Joreka's mother was quick to help. Sato did not mind, any time spent with his best friend was good times for him.

They sat down at the table straight away; there was little need for formalities here. As soon as the food was on the table and everyone was ready they started, the food was good and, as it often went, Sato did not realize how hungry he had been until after he had started eating. It took all of about twenty minutes to eat and pack up the dinner set, Joreka's mum was looking a bit grey and the two teens decided to leave her be, hoping that the rice was not gone bad, and would soon bring the whole island down with some sort of disease that had spawned in the single rice field of the island.

The two friends wandered the village, it was nearly completely dark and Sato worried briefly about tripping. He need not have worried, the two had lived in the village their whole lives, and would have had little trouble finding their way around even if they were blindfolded. They hoped to find some other kids, although there were only two sometimes three other kids in the village of around their age, they hoped to meet a group of kids staying overnight from the south village, who were going fishing in the bay early the next morning.

After half an hour of not finding anything much, they turned back. At their age, they were expected to work as adults; therefore, like adults, they were allowed to stay up as late as they wanted. They would most likely spend the night talking on the beach. First though, they had to tell Joreka's mum what was happening.

They walked slowly back to the cabin; later, Sato would remember the topic being the delicate issue of water bending. A sense of foreboding followed them home and both felt nervous about something tey could not put their fingers on, when they arrived at the shack, the torch outside was lit, meaning that the occupant was still awake, Joreka did not bother knocking and walked straight in, inside the house was nearly pitch black, the only light a timid, grey light that filtered through the bamboo and gave the house a ghostly feel.

Sato was just about to exclaim a greeting when Joreka stopped, her feet planted in the ground, Sato bumped into her and swore at the suddenness of it. His eyes adjusted to the blackness and he saw why Joreka had stopped: there in the middle of the floor, was a shape.

There was nothing human about the shape on the floor; it took a second for the idea to kick in that it was Joreka's mother. Her kind, staring eyes, half closed and gently glazed.

Joreka stifled the urge to scream, she dived down and immediately lifted the water out of a terracotta vase. As it flew toward her, Sato heard vases breaking nearby, before he could comprehend what was happening, he was drenched, Joreka had taken the water from all over the village, and was now holding it in a sphere above her mother, the previously clear water started to glow, spirits flew through it and danced as the torch outside flickered once then died. Before he could take anything else in, he was blinded, he could not see anything because of the white, cool, soothing, pulse coming out of the ball.

Sato felt all his energy leave him, as if sucked in by the ball. Joreka tilted her head back and Sato saw her eyes were glazed with a white, pure energy that took Sato's breath away. She slammed the ball into her mother's chest, the water exploding outward as it hit; it burned hot and scalding as it hit Sato.

Suddenly Joreka went limp and slowly collapsed to the floor, her eyes contently closed in the peace of dreams. Sato fell to his knees, all his strength stolen. He had one last thought before he fell into a restless sleep, a simple statement which was more than he could comprehend.

Joreka's mother was dead.

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**OOOOOHHHHHH Cliff hanger, sort of, if I do not write another chapter in the next few days,**  
** it may be because my friend Az is hangging in suspence. **

**Should not be more than 1 or two weeks till next installment. **


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